Just Like Always
by A Star In My Universe
Summary: It might not be like a reliable wedding ring that could be held in your palm at night. It might not even be close to as good as heroin could feel. But in that moment, there was nothing either of them wanted more.


Lorna sighed as she slid into the driver's seat of the cold van on yet another cold December morning, rubbing her gloved hands together as she waited for the next load of prisoners to board along with CO Fischer. While she waited, she admired herself in the mirror, touching up her makeup and fiddling with her already perfect hair. After what seemed like centuries, CO Fischer brought Rosa, whose chemo sessions had recently been reinstated, and instructed Morello on where to go, with Lorna heading off with a smile and an "Okay, boss!"

The drive didn't take long, and CO Fischer stepped out of the vehicle with a smile. "We'll be back soon. Rosa's treatment is three hours. You'll be okay in here for that time, won't you?" Her gentle demeanour always made Lorna feel at ease and she nodded.

She smiles at Susan, her red lipstick contrasting the bleak day. "I'll be fine; I've got my magazines. I've got a wedding to plan!" She pats the magazines next to her, and watches as the two walk into the hospital. As she turns to pick up her magazine, she feels a pair of hands over her face. Panic, before anything else, takes over her body as she begins to scream. _Oh god, she was going to die for being a criminal, and God was watching, and he was punishing her and-_

"Calm it down, Morello!" A hushed voice from behind her giggles. "I'm not a murderer. Geez, and to think you've survived years of prison with that scream. I thought I'd surprise you. Make your working day a little less boring and a bit more…" Nicky raises an eyebrow. "Well, me."

"Jesus, Nicky! You almost gave me a heart attack," the brunette exclaims, her chocolatey eyes widening in shock. Nicky laughs, a mess of hair concealing her smirk from Morello's glare.

"The effects of heart related sicknesses are over exaggerated," Nicky informs her once she's finished laughing. She pulls her khaki shirt over her head and runs her hand over her chest. "On the plus side, if they have to cut you open, you're left with a decent scar. You can tell Christopher that you got into a fight. I hear boys think that's pretty hot."

Lorna frowns, but her eyes train on the scar, her breath catching as she looks at it once more. It's not that she hadn't seen it before; it was more that seeing it in broad daylight made it real. Nicky takes a step closer to her, leaning over the empty seats, and whispering, "What about girls? What do you think?" She reaches a hand out and tucks Lorna's hair behind her ears and letting her fingers trail down her neck and chest.

This time, Lorna doesn't hide her annoyance, shaking her head so that her now flat curls bounce next to her ears but not having the willpower to push Nicky's hand away. "I think you shouldn't be here."

"Luschek is higher than Chapman's expectations." Nicky says flippantly. "He's not gonna notice that I'm gone. Besides, what are they gonna do? Throw me in jail?" She laughs dryly.

"You know that's not what I meant," Lorna sighs, though she was anxious about the thought of Nicky having another spell in the SHU. "I'm getting married, you know that. We can't be doing this anymore. It's not _right."_

"Big fucking deal." Nicky rolled her eyes, spitting out her words. She had heard it all before. "It's just sex, Morello. It doesn't _mean_ anything. You can go back to Christopher afterwards. You've seen my book."

"Yeah, well, not all girls are like you, Nicky." Nicky frowned, trying to work out if she meant gay, or careless, but not sure the answer made any difference. "It means something to _me._ " When she realizes her words, Morello looks to her feet, her forehead creasing. Had she meant that Nicky meant more to her than she'd let even herself believe? After a moment of two, her head suddenly snaps up, as if remembering something. "And I know it means something to you, because I'm not in that stupid book."

Nicky locks eyes with Lorna, remembering the first time she had written the name _Morello_ in her little black book, the way it just didn't fit in with the other meaningless names that blurred together after a while. No, she'd torn that page out and sat in the kitchen with Red on one warm summer night, and she had burned her hand on the oven when she set alight to the piece of paper that made her heart flutter in a way that she was not used to. Not even Red knew what was written on the page, but Nicky was always reminded of it when she saw the torn page in her book and when she saw the burn mark on her hand. Red had asked, of course – Red always asked – but Nicky had shut her down with a short, "Not now, Ma," that quickly let Red know that now was not the time.

She absently rubbed the mark now, her mind wandering. Hell, everything would remind her of Lorna, whether she tore it out of her life or not. It would be there, waiting for her to forget even for a moment, just like always. Just like Lorna.

The flutter of her heart, the hand that smacked her from behind in the lunch line, the tears she had to mop up after yet another romantic movie ended sadly on movie night.

 _"But they were meant to be together, Nicky!"_

Reminders were everywhere, and the desire to just touch her, not even in a sexual way, just to have Lorna's fingers raking through her hair whilst she drifted in and out of sleep or told a funny story, burned stronger than the oven ever could.

"What makes you think that's a good thing, eh?" Nicky barks, slumping down onto one of the van seats.

Lorna glares at her. "Why would I want to be in a junkie's book, anyway?"

Nicky stares at Lorna like she slapped her, and she instantly regrets her words. "I don't know. I ask myself the same question, but substitute "junkie" for "psycho" and "book" for "pants." With that, Nicky lets her head fall back onto the seat behind her.

Her hair fanned out behind her, and despite herself, Lorna found herself proffering some comfort to the girl, who craved her company more than anything. It wasn't pity that allowed Lorna to begin raking her hands through the curly mess of hair. It was a knot in her stomach that she had worked so hard to untangle, that wedding magazines and collages crushed, that would always find a way to resurface. And though she wouldn't admit it, it was a welcome feeling. To feel wanted was all she ever wanted, so why were the tears slipping down her cheeks?

Nicky, whose eyes had closed upon the feeling of fingers at her scalp, winced internally at the sounds of sniffles above her. She had been able to resist many things in her time. The urge for drugs, namely, was something she'd managed to resist for three years now. So why was it that tears from Lorna always provoked a reaction, almost like a reflex? Nicky's own hand entwined with Lorna's, and she kissed the weavings of fingers.

Morello's knees felt weak and she sat down next to Nicky, who allowed the tearful girl to lay across her lap, her soft hair tickling the bare skin on Nicky's exposed stomach, whilst her khaki shirt lay needless on the floor. As always, the two fit together, Nicky's fingers brushing at Lorna's forehead, sobs escaping from her perfect bow lips. Nicky's own emotions felt frayed, as she felt pushed to her limits. Briefly, she imagined how easy it would be to score something amazing out here in the open world, how wonderful a small escape would be. And god, did she miss it. Everyday.

But as much as she wouldn't like to admit it, she'd miss this more. She'd miss the crazy girl that was making her legs numb as sobs wracked her body, caused by her, as she also cried silent tears above her. She was a junkie, and this was her latest hit. And every hit meant that she craved just that little bit more, every time, and she would always want just one more hit. Lorna wouldn't admit it either, but it wasn't Christopher's face that she saw when she fell asleep at night anymore. It was a mess of curls and a smile that could seemingly make everything better.

It might not be like a reliable wedding ring that could be held in your palm at night. It might not even be close to as good as heroin could feel. But in that moment, there was nothing either of them wanted more. They understood each other in a way that no-one else could.

And even if it wasn't "right", or even if it was just a junkie and a psycho, in that moment, everything seemed perfectly imperfect.

Just like always.

 **Not sure what I think of this one. It's my first OITNB, so be gentle. I tried to get it in character, but I'm not sure. Tell me what you think. I just love this pairing.**


End file.
